


The Many Lives of Margaret Carter

by Fiercest



Series: The Many Lives of Margaret Carter [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Aunt Peggy Carter, F/M, Gen, Multiverse, Peggy Carter Lives, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark (Background) - Freeform, Tony needs adult supervision, wibbley wobbley timey wimey weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 07:46:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13290318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiercest/pseuds/Fiercest
Summary: Tony remembers things a little differently. (For @agentkarnstein for #steggysecretsanta)





	The Many Lives of Margaret Carter

 

Tony stuck his head between the wooden poles of the bannister, trying to get a view of the scene below. The shouts echoed against the marble floor and reverberated through the house. He wondered where his mother was.

 

His father’s voice shook with a rage Tony had trouble associating with him. His displeasure was a quiet, seething thing. But now, the walls shook.

 

Whoever he was fighting with, gave as good as she got. She berated him over and over. The lecture reminded him of his school principal.

 

The top of the woman’s head was streaked with graying hair. Her dress was red. She hadn’t taken off her coat. His father gesticulated wildly with his scotch.

 

A final implosion, sucked the air out of the room and ended whatever disagreement they were having.

 

“Go fuck yourself Howard,” the woman hissed, finally.

 

Tony couldn’t help it, he gasped.

 

The adults looked up.

 

Tony was six, and small for his age. He tried to flee but his head was stuck in the bannister. His breathing grew ragged as he panicked.

 

The woman’s brows furrowed in surprise and pain as she made eye contact. Her lips were painted a bright ruby red and wrinkles ringed her mouth and eyes. “Tony,” she mouthed.

 

He didn’t recognize her, but she clearly knew him.

 

“Peggy, come on,” his father cajoled, suddenly more in his usual humor. “Don’t be like that.”

 

“You’re despicable.”

 

“If I’m so despicable, then why are you here?!” his mood swung swiftly.

 

“Because I’m your friend, unlike those sycophants you surround yourself with. I’m just trying to-“

 

“I don’t need you to tell me right from wrong, Your Highness! I had a mother for that.”

 

“Well I’m sure she’s very proud of you!”

 

“Well, we can’t all live for what dead people would think of us.”

 

_Slap._

 

“I’m leaving,” Peggy grit. “Goodbye Tony.”

 

She fled, tears falling in her wake.

 

“Good riddance! And don’t speak to my son!”

 

.

.

 

He had recognized her from a photo that used to sit on their mantelpiece. After that night, it mysteriously disappeared. He could never remember it, after.

 

Over forty years later, he sees her face and her obituary and can’t quite remember why it makes him so sad.

 

.

.

 

Tony grows up flanked by a pair of ghosts.

 

Howard is the only one who seems to see them. He measures his son against their stature.

 

Howard tells him stories about Captain America, but Mr. Jarvis tells him stories about Agent Carter. While espionage and post-war battle are not the usual stuff of bedtime stories, he finds the idea of his stalwart butler performing the part of right hand man to a spy _awesome_.

 

He learns about Captain America’s feats of daring, but he gets to know Peggy Carter beyond her legacy.

 

It’s a different sort of legend.

 

.

.

 

Aunt Peggy attends every science fair, every school pageant. She’s in the front row of elementary, middle school and high school graduations. When, on a lark, he does a post-grad degree at Stanford in Economics Peggy is ‘by coincidence’ the invited speaker at convocation.

 

‘On a lark’ is an expression he got from her, it’s what he offers up as explanation when she bails him out of jail for driving a motorcycle without a license and a blonde woman with fake tits, five years his senior on the back of it.

 

And when his parents die, she hosts the shiva. His parents’ house is full of people who have flitted through the peripherals of his life. Some of them bring food. It’s a comfort to have her there, deftly shielding him from most of the small talk.

 

Obadiah stays close too.

 

Peggy barely acknowledges him, even as the three of them become the only occupants of the mansion. She’s never liked him, but Tony is grateful that she says nothing. They’re the only family he’s got left now.

 

.

.

 

Aunt Peggy has this tendency to vet every person who gets close to him, and nag him about it until the end of time.

 

She’s what his father would have called a yenta.

 

Actually, that’s exactly what his father used to call her.

 

She likes Rhodey, says he’s a good influence. She mistrusts Obadiah. She’s hated every girl he’s ever not dated.

 

It’s not that Aunt Peggy thinks no woman is worthy of him. She says that she’s waiting to meet someone she wouldn’t feel badly inflicting him on. She grimly bites her tongue on stories of Howard’s conquests.

 

For the longest time, Peggy refused to comment on Pepper. Every time she would drop in (unannounced) or meet him at the office, she would cast sidelong glances at the younger woman, as if sizing her up. It took two years.

 

Eventually, she accepted Pepper’s offer of tea. As she left the room, Peggy fixed Tony in an even stare and told him frankly and without preamble. “I like her.”

 

“She’s off limits.”

 

“Not for dating you twit.” She rolled her eyes and reached up to slap him upside the head. “Trust is a commodity.”

 

_Sorry Aunt Peggy._

She was always a good judge of character.

 

.

.

 

Tony doesn’t have a lot of friends, but the list is slowly growing by the day.

 

Finally meeting Captain America was jarring. Getting to know Steve was surprisingly easy.

 

He’s not a hard man to know. He’s friendly, open and kind. The sort of person that Nat can trust and that’s a hard won thing.

 

The more Tony gets to know Steve, the more sadness he comes to know. The picture that arranges itself becomes clearer and clearer for all the words he doesn’t say. Steve has lost a lot, and it’s when he looks at Pepper’s picture on his lockscreen that he starts to comprehend the magnitude of that.

 

.

.

 

Summers for most kids means no school, sun, swim and bike rides with friends. For Tony, it means summer school and following his dad around the office.

 

Until August.

 

Every August Tony gets to visit his Aunt Peggy and Uncle Steve for an entire _month_. It’s the highlight of his whole year. They have a cozy, two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. The same one they’ve had since the war.

 

A hundred photos line the walls: their old army buddies, Jarvis and Ana, Howard, Angie, Tony himself. Uncle Steve’s decorated uniform is framed in the corner.

 

Four afghans are thrown over the couch. One of them is red and full of holes. Tony watched Aunt Peggy try to knit it one winter when he visited during the school break. He caught Uncle Steve finishing some rows one night after she’d gone to bed.  

 

Steve and Peggy are retired, as far as Tony knows. They have a home life that’s utterly foreign to him. Where his parents take separate vacations, he can hardly imagine his aunt and uncle apart.

 

Together they go to Coney Island and the Beaches. They explore Manhattan. Tony’s favourite deli in the whole world is right next door to their building.

 

Summer, for Tony, is an untouchable time. He spends the winding August days with people who love him unconditionally and provide a safe port from the storm that’s brewing at home.

 

.

.

 

Peggy Carter disappeared in 1948.

 

Tony stares at the file and knows that something is very wrong, but can’t put his finger on what.

 

She had an exemplary record. Mostly redacted of course. But modern scanners are a hell of a thing.

 

And she was a babe, even by today’s standards. She had that starchy no-nonsense thing going, but her mouth was all tease.

 

Tony glances sideways at Pepper. She’s lying against the armrest of the couch, her feet are in his lap and the packet that hides her face from view is thick. _Yeah. He can see what Cap must have seen in her._

He was just being nosey. He saw the picture, heard Nat mention her name and off he went. He couldn’t leave a mystery lie, not when it had blackmail potential. But this?

 

Her whole life in front of her, years of service behind. _What happened to her?_

 

The details of the report are few. The last person to see her alive: Edwin Jarvis.

 

Tony lets the file drop into his lap and stares straight ahead, unseeing.

 

Jarvis. _Jarvis_ Jarvis. His Jarvis. _THE_ Jarvis.

 

What does this mean?

 

.

.

 

Peggy appears in a blink.

 

One moment, his lab is empty except for him and his bots. The next, a young, beautiful and very alive Margaret Carter is standing on his work station.

 

She almost clobbers him with the closest implement she can find: a stapler. And damn if she’s doesn’t have excellent aim.

 

“Hey, HEY!” Tony barely manages, “Margaret- PEGGY! Peggy? Right?”

 

Peggy Carter was dressed in a fine blue work dress and red pumps. She didn’t blink as she gave Tony a once-over, sizing him up. In a graceful skip, she alighted from the table with a click of her heels on the concrete floor.

 

“I’m sorry, I haven’t had the pleasure.”

 

He assumes that he seems friendly enough, because she’s not throwing any more office supplies at his head.

 

She holds out her hand to shake.

 

Tony leaps into action and takes her hand in a vigorous shake. “Tony Stark. How you doin’?”

 

“Stark?” she purses her lips, “Any relation…?”

 

“Dear old dad, that’s him. You were friends huh?”

 

“I- I don’t understand.”

 

“Peggy,” she glares at him icily. “Ms. Carter. Ma’am. Er-“ Tony doesn’t know why her stare makes him feel tongue-tied. Everything he knows of this woman comes from a file. A very thick one with very little useful information. He can’t get Cap to talk about her. “I’m not really sure how to ask you this, but how the hell did you get here?”

 

“You’re Howard’s boy alright.”

 

“Easy, we just met, you don’t have to read me for filth like that.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I’m sorry, I’ve been hanging out with an idiot teenager a lot lately. Trying to do the whole superhero mentor thing, stepping up. I think it’s somehow making me less cool. My wife seems to think so anyway. I made a pun the other day and she laughed at me.”

 

Peggy understands almost none of that, but Tony doesn’t seem put out despite his complaints.

 

He ushers her through a glass door and up some stairs.

 

She should be suspicious, but Peggy is good at rolling with the punches.

 

.

.

 

Peggy meets Tony’s wife, who is warm, pragmatic and perfectly comfortable mocking him. This endears her to Peggy instantly. She’s got the impression that he needs that.

 

They tell her what year it is almost right away. It’s not as much of a shock as it should be. Pepper retrieves a file from somewhere, it’s her file.

 

**Agent Margaret Carter: MIA, June 5 th 1948.**

 

One could be forgiven for assuming Peggy would want to take a moment to absorb this. She doesn’t.

 

She itches to get moving. She wants to occupy herself with a useful task. She suddenly has boundless energy and nowhere to apply it.

 

.

.

 

Peggy is waiting in an exam room, wearing a hospital gown. She has submitted to a dozen blood tests at this point.

 

Perhaps it isn’t wise to trust people she only just met, but after going outside, seeing the dated daily papers, the advances in technology all around her, riding in Tony’s car, then jet… how could she even conceive of a trick that thorough?

 

One moment she touched a glowing blue thing, the next she was in Howard Stark’s son’s home.

 

She curls her toes and is glad for the socks that Pepper helpfully supplied. She’d be freezing in her stockings.

 

The door to the exam room opens with a bang. Reflexively, Peggy looks up.

 

And there’s Steve.

 

Looking at her like nothing else in the universe exists.

 

A standstill. They faceoff, neither wanting to be the first to move and break the spell. Lest the other disappear before their very eyes.

 

Tears gather in the corner of Steve’s eyes, Peggy holds her breath.

 

As one, they collide. Peggy leaps from the exam table and Steve surges forward. He catches her in his arms and swings her around. She holds on as tight as she can, pressing her face into his neck. His tears burn her shoulder, the sound of his sobs sear into her heart.

 

Eventually he stops spinning, but doesn’t let her down. Her toes brush the tops of his boots. Even as she floats, she finally feels solid ground beneath her.

 

.

.

 

Tony has known Steve and Peggy together and apart.

 

And he’s the only one who seems to remember.

 

He tosses and turns in bed, trying to force his memories into order and sense. How does he remember his life so differently?

 

He remembers Aunt Peggy, present for every major life event; a stone-cold badass who he could always count on. He remembers living in Steve’s shadow, he remembers Steve plucking him from his father’s. He remembers summers with Aunt Peggy and Uncle Steve; sandwiched between them atop the Ferris wheel. He remembers not knowing her, he remembers finding out about her death in the paper. He remembers speaking at her funeral. He remembers this life, where she appears out of thin air, like it’s all a fairy-tale.

 

He restrains himself from waking Pepper to ask her which life is real.

 

Are all of them?

 

.

.

 

Timelines converging, lives unspent and unlived. Every possibility stretching behind. Time is weird, life is weirder. Human beings wreak havoc with fate and the universe.

 

“Do we get to decide?” Steve demands of Bruce. “Do we get to decide which reality we want?”

 

That’s supposed to be the beauty of being human isn’t it? Choice… Free will.

 

Bruce doesn’t know. “There’s got to be a correct choice though, doesn’t there?”

 

As one, they look to Tony, “Which feels real to you?”

 

And the truth is, they all do. He feels the pain of losing Peggy and the numbness of never knowing her, but knowing she’s gone. He loves her and Steve in all these different ways that he can’t seem to square with himself or the universe.

 

“I don’t think it should be up to me. It’s their lives.”

 

“But you’re the one who remembers.”

 

And why is that? Why did he say anything? This is the reality they’re living, here and now, so what does it matter?

 

“Tony, you’re remembering your multiverse counterparts lives. There’s gotta be a reason.”

 

And Peggy, dear old Aunt Peggy, cocks her hip to the side and plants her hands on her hips. “What did you touch?”

 

“I touch lots of things I’m not supposed to,” he shrugs.

 

“He puts them in his mouth, too.” Nat quips from the corner.

 

“Hey.” He protests, without much passion behind it. “I haven’t messed with anything… lately.”

 

“One of you must have,” Bruce tells them, sure.

 

“Wasn’t me,” Clint is quick to absolve himself. Nat hits him in the chest. “ _Oomph!”_

“Not one of you,” Bruce gestures around the room. “One of _you_.”

 

Tony stares at the finger Bruce points at him, comprehending but not wanting to. He sighs. “We’ve got to go fix this now, huh?”

 

“Don’t worry,” Peggy assures him, sidling up to him and pinching his cheeks. “We’re coming with you.”

 

And as Steve steps forward too, putting a hand on Peggy’s shoulder, the pair of them smiling at him, Tony feels nine years old again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ironman and his aunt and uncle then proceed to go off on a bunch of adventures through time and space. I dunno. This wasn’t very romantic, but I love the idea of Aunt Peggy so much and you wanted plot (I think)! Hope you enjoyed this, sorry it was so late. I got a little caught up in the weirdness.


End file.
